Nottingham: Seeking Sanctuary - Revisited - Chapter One

 

**Chapter One: “The Mirror That Spoke”**

Faith sat curled on the floor of the chapel -- her chapel now, though the echoes of the past still hung like incense in the rafters. Candles flickered half-heartedly beside her, their glow swallowed by the pre-dawn haze leaking through stained glass. She wasn’t praying so much as unraveling. The journal in her lap lay open, words halted mid-sentence, as if even her ink was holding its breath.

She whispered into the silence:  

“God, if You’re still writing this story, I feel like I lost the plot.”

Her eyelids grew heavy. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe surrender. The chapel blurred, and the hush pulled her downward like a velvet tide.

---

She stood now in a wide, endless field under a sky the color of parchment. No sun. No shadow. Just stillness. Before her rose a mirror—weathered at the edges, rimmed in ivy, as tall as the oaks that weren’t there.

In its glass, she expected her reflection. Instead, she saw **him**—Noah. Clothed in old sermons and polished smiles. But the image shimmered and peeled away like flaking paint. In his place stood a blank page, glowing with quiet promise.

Behind her, a presence stirred—not loud, not visible. Just *there*. Like peace had learned to breathe.

And then, softly, undeniably:  

**“This is your story. Not his.”**

The words didn’t echo. They soaked in.  

**“You were never meant to live in someone else’s script. Your voice carries My breath. Your journey honors Me.”**

Faith turned back to the mirror. This time, her own reflection stood tall. A little cracked around the edges, yes—but fierce with fire and resilience. The blank page behind her shimmered again, and she saw it fill—not with rules or rebukes, but with *possibility.*

She reached out.

---

She jolted awake with her palm still outstretched. The candle beside her had burned low, wax pooling like a tear on the floor.

But something in her had shifted.

She wasn’t here to prove she belonged in someone else’s sanctuary.  

She *was* the sanctuary—rebuilt in grace, scrawled with mercy, brimming with truth.